One of Those Nights

You know those nights, right?

Nothing is quite right.

Grant is in our room, apparently dying with the flu.  He is moaning and wailing and probably gnashing his teeth.  I'm not sure about the gnashing part.  That is just speculation.

Lucy is wide awake in her crib singing "Dowa, Dowa, Dowa, dee Explowa!" over and over and over again.

Michael is crying about the possibility that I may suffer a premature death.

I wanted to make Apple Cider Donuts and have them ready when everyone wakes in the morn - but I don't feel so sweet or domestic to provide piping hot donuts upon everyones awakening. 

Tomorrow is Halloween.  I used to love Halloween and then I didn't.  I used to think it was harmless fun and then I thought it was the gateway holiday to Wiccanism.  I feel like tomorrow I am reverting back to my harmless days.  In fact, I want to go buy a circa 1950's house dress and wear red lipstick, pearls and heels just for irony. 

I found out today that despite my grammatical pretense - I have, in fact, been using the wrong form of 'its' for my whole life.  I know the difference between who's and whose, but I am humbled to realize that I have been an "its" offender.   What evs.

Do you notice how many "I's" are in this little rant?  I think I'll spare you any more.

What I'm Thinking About...

Chocolate Covered Katie.

I made her pumpkin baked oatmeal tonight and as I ate it out of my new celery colored stoneware ramekins, with it's toasty little baked crust on the top, all drizzled with maple syrup (no white sugar at all!), and warmy, cinnamony, deliciousness - I was transported into some kind of dreamlike, swirling, hazy state of euphoria.  It was that good.

Check her out.
http://chocolatecoveredkatie.com/2010/11/10/baked-pumpkin-oatmeal-for-one/

(photo courtesy of Chocolate Covered Katie - link above)

What I Am Thinking About...

Marcel the Shell

The cutest thing ever.

To Hell With Moderation

Do you want to know what?  I don't like people who compulsively diet.

That's right.

Exercise all you want.  Run day and night.  Get up in the middle of the night to do additional Pilates.  Go right ahead.

Turn down a piece of warm bread and butter?  You are a fool.  If someone offers you a chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk and you say no?  I simply do not want to be your friend. 

What I am Thinking About

H.W. Crocker III

An Open Letter to Mr. Crocker.
Dear Sir.
This evening I read an article you wrote entitled "Use NFP, It Doesn't Work" and I want you to know that I loved it.  I found your article while doing research for an article that I am writing about NFP.  I put in the Google search function "NFP Doesn't Work" and your article was delivered from cyber-Heaven.  The part where you quoted the tearful NFP-lover with her "wonderfully made" body made me laugh so hard that I woke one of the children sleeping on my floor. 

I have spent the last hour trying to find contact information for you - but to no avail.  That is why I am writing you this letter on my own blog.  Fat chance you are going to see it.

So my research changed from NFP to contact info for HW Crocker III, and to my surprise I discovered that you also authored "Triumph".  Sir, If I were anywhere near you I would pat you on the back, or give you a hug, or something like that.  I like the way you think.

So please accept this letter with a hefty dose of praise.  I thoroughly enjoy your work.
God Bless You,
Sharon Kieffer Steele

If you'd like to read "Use NFP: It Doesn't Work" here you go.
You're welcome.
http://www.catholicity.com/commentary/crocker/04828.html

Scenes from a Roadtrip

Is is wrong to love a bug?  Because I was smitten with this little jumper.

Nevermind the chocolate on the teeth.  After a long hike, nothing soothes the soul like an entire box of moonpies.

Self Portrait Artistes.

Mijas.

The End.

What I'm Thinking About...

This Article...
http://www.colve.org/?p=873